A Grand Deception (4 page)

"It is I"-he touched his white-gloved hand to his goldshot scarlet waistcoat-"Sherwin."

She could only stare at him. Muriel felt the blood drain
from her face in shock. Her mouth went completely dry, and she had difficulty finding her voice, or any suitable words
she might string together in response.

"Sherwin Lloyd .. " Aunt Penny remarked, and she also
seemed taken aback by his identity. "Imagine, after all these
years, the two of you crossing paths again, right here in Town,
in the middle of Almack's."

`Again? Have they met previously?" The Dowager Countess Amhurst seemed surprised, and her remark might not
have been meant in a pleasant way.

Muriel and Sherwin's exchange was kept private by the
distance of the people looking on. At least he had the good
sense not to raise his voice.

"I thought you were still at Faraday Hall. I never, ever
expected to see you here." His original surprise moved to
irritation. He spoke in a sharp manner but no louder than a
whisper. "I believe that was where your last had originated."

"Considering it must have traveled from Yorkshire, where
it was addressed, to London, I'm surprised you've managed
to receive it so quickly," Muriel replied, and she allowed a
completely false smile to slide across her lips. "If you continue this rant, you shall give the current gossip regarding the
mysterious earl a new turn: the mysterious ogre earl!"

"Look, the children are reacquainting themselves," Lady
Amhurst commented, now seemingly pleased at the reunion.

Muriel drew in a breath to calm herself and noted that
the upturn of Sherwin's mouth was not as convincing as her
recently well-practiced one. "Your letters mentioned nothing of you coming to Town."

"And what about you?" Sherwin's stare hardened. It was
an accusation that she had done the unthinkable, charging
her with telling an outright lie.

Muriel answered his quiet accusation with silence. This was not the place where they should be airing the exchange
of their private correspondence, no matter what the volume.
Not unless they wished the guests, both families, and all of
London to learn of it. Before noon tomorrow word would
have spread of their illicit communication.

Was this unpleasant, odious young man truly the shy, softspoken Sherwin whom Muriel thought she knew? She could
not make any sense of what was happening.

This must be he. But this man was tall and broadshouldered, not the small, slender lad she'd met four years
before with whom she'd shared her interest in Latin studies,
her hopes to continue to Greek literature, and discussions of
her precious books. His once-trembling tenor voice had
changed to that of a grown man, deep and solemn, and, at this
particular moment, very annoyed.

What had happened to him? What of their years of intellectual exchange, their shared admiration for Latin and the
Classics?

His mother rapped her fan on his shoulder. "We are leaving
at once" She turned to the solicitor, Mr. Gibbons, and ordered, "Call for the carriage."

Without a pause, Lord Amhurst ended his ephemeral
conversation with a concise and overly polite, "Perhaps we
shall have the good fortune to meet again."

"I believe that is what you said when we parted last." Muriel could not bring herself to smile at him, not even a civil
one for the public's behalf.

"The difference is that the last time I spoke them, I sincerely meant those words." His curt bow was followed by
his hasty and immediate exit.

He had never meant to shout out her name, especially not
that name, the one he'd picked up upon hearing her sisters' usage some years ago. He had used it out of a habit of convenience over their subsequent years of correspondence.

Sherwin could not blame Muriel for not recognizing
him. It had, after all, been a very long time. He had not
known who she was until he'd "overheard" one of her companions refer to her. He'd been honing the skills he'd long
ago learned from the Duke of Faraday's youngest daughter.
In her missives, she'd given him some helpful techniques
on mastering the art of deciphering spoken words from
a distance, as he had offered her some aid in her Latin
studies.

He retrieved his hat, cape, and silver-topped ebony cane.
After setting the hat on his head, he swirled the cape around
his shoulders. Sherwin stalked to the front door to wait for
his coach. He was tempted to look back but did not wish to
risk seeing her or chance meeting her gaze.

He had never expected to see her here in Town. Why hadn't
Muriel written of her impending visit? Their reunion might
have been more pleasant. But then again, why would she divulge such information to him? Their communications had
always been based on learning and academics. They never
touched upon personal matters.

So when he learned that his elder brother Charles had died
in the war more than seven months ago, Sherwin had not told
her.

He thumped his cane on the floor, frustrated with the
waiting.

When his eldest brother, James, Viscount Marsdon, had
caught the fever and passed from this world to the next four
months ago, Sherwin did not write of it.

Two thumps of his cane did not cause his carriage to appear any sooner.

His father had lingered a fortnight after James had passed, suffering from the same illness. The Earl of Amhurst had
followed his eldest son and heir's death, leaving Sherwin the
sole male, the new Earl of Amhurst and Viscount Marsdon.
As ever, avoiding any personal topics, Sherwin could not in
good conscience relay his life-changing, very sad, and deeply
personal news to Muriel, so he had not.

Unable to remain under the same roof as Muriel now,
Sherwin passed through the front doors to wait outside.

Never had they disclosed any details of their personal
lives. Writing to her of his circumstances would have been
out of the question. So how could she know what unfortunate events had befallen him and brought him to Town? Not
only had his mother insisted, but the solicitor had supported
her position that he set aside mourning and attend the Season
to find a bride.

The earldom needed an heir.

To be honest, Sherwin found it embarrassing to think of
such things.

But Muriel had never hinted that she was interested in going to Town for the Season. For some unconscionable reason,
he found it difficult to believe she would ever consider joining
the marriage mart.

It was difficult to think of her seeking a husband.

The last he'd seen of her, she'd been thirteen years old and
looked every bit a girl, with her simple schoolroom frock
and her hair knotted into a bun at the base of her neck. He
recalled glancing at her this very night while she stood with
her friends. She was tall and slender now, with her brown
hair bound on the top of her head. Dark curls framed her
face with those wide green eyes, and she had glared at him
with complete revulsion.

Yes, he had lied to her. It amounted to as much, in any case, and it made him feel quite ill. On the other hand, had
she not done the same?

Back in the assembly rooms, Muriel was determined not to
add to the speculation that was sure to follow the brief,
awkward, cryptic conversation she and Sherwin-Lord
Amhurst-had had before the guests.

She thought him a horrible, odious man.

The dancing continued, even after Muriel's unladylike
display. Many guests were occupied playing cards. The Duke
made his excuses and joined his acquaintances in another
room, leaving Aunt Penny to chaperone Muriel.

Constance turned to her cousin only moments after the
Duke had excused himself. "Whatever was that about?"

Even though her cousin might have been the only one
besides the Duke or Aunt Penny in the position to ask that
question, Muriel had no wish to answer. She did not wish to
explain how matters stood between her and Sherwin Lloyd,
now Earl of Amhurst.

Lord Peter, all thoughtfulness and caring, approached
Muriel only moments later. "Are you quite all right? He
didn't say anything out of line, did he? Need I call him out?"

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Lord Peter." Muriel did all she
could to dissuade him. The very notion that he should challenge the Earl of Amhurst to a duel was absurd, not to mention illegal. "Besides, it's not your place to suggest it."

"How could you say such a thing? You know how much I
care for you. . . ." His address was most sincere, and he took
up her hand in both of his, staring at her in a most serious
fashion, indeed.

She did not care for his behavior. This action convinced
Muriel it was time to turn her attention to someone else; Lord Peter was making a nuisance of himself. To continue
her ruse, however, Muriel slid into her more genteel persona. She cast her gaze downward and affected a small,
coquettish smile. "Oh, Lord Peter, you most certainly put
me to the blush when you say such things."

"You aren't tempted by the Earl, are you?" A glint of fear
shone in his eyes. "He hasn't turned your head or-"

Turn her head? Really! Nothing was further from the
truth. Muriel wished Lord Peter would stop all talk of the Earl
of Amhurst. "Did you not promise me this next dance?" she
asked.

It was apparent that he began to see through his cloud of
jealousy, and he must have realized that Muriel cared no
more for the new earl than she did for yesterday's bread.

They took their places on the dance floor with the other
couples and smiled at each other. Our of the corner of her
eye, Muriel found herself keeping watch at the door where
the Earl had exited, waiting for, and dreading, his return.

"Please do not question me about him." After the dance set
with Lord Peter, Muriel once again stood with her family
members.

"Why did you not tell us you knew the Earl of Amhurst?"
Constance appeared determined to discover why she had
not divulged such a thing to her own cousin.

Muriel would not answer and tried to ignore her cousin.

"I will not be put off, Moo," Constance insisted. "You
know I will have you answer me sooner or later."

"Oh, very well, come with me." Muriel took a few steps
away from Aunt Penny, so as not to be overheard, and she
explained, "I did not know he was the earl. When I met him,
he was a younger son who had no hope of ever coming into
his family's title."

How could the shy Sherwin Lloyd, whose passion for education and learning matched her own, have changed into
the overbearing autocrat she'd seen tonight?

"But what happened? How is it that he is an earl? Are
you not curious?" Constance gripped her fan in what must
have been frustration, for Muriel could not and would not
answer satisfactorily.

"I do not know, Constance, and I do not intend to find
out." Muriel did not even wish to think of Sherwin, and she
was fairly certain she could successfully forget him if only
Lord Peter and Constance would stop bringing up his name.
"I have no interest in him whatsoever, and it would suit me
well enough if I never had to look upon him and his squinty
eyes ever again!"

Would that be enough of a final answer for her cousin?

"Lady Muriel." Sir Samuel Pruitt, dressed in evening finery and knee breeches, an Almack's requirement, appeared
at her side and bowed over her hand.

She stepped back in surprise at his sudden appearance and
couldn't help but notice Constance's dour expression dissolve
with the young man's arrival. Constance's countenance instantly transformed into one of delight.

A spark of recognition flickered in Sir Samuel's eyes. It
would be impossible for him to ignore the blinding illumination of Constance's admiration.

"I do not believe we have had a proper introduction." The
Baronet extended his right hand to receive Muriel's cousin's
outstretched hand.

There would be no avoiding the inevitability of their acquaintance, so Muriel pushed forward. "Sir Samuel, my
cousin Miss Constance Kimball."

"How do you do, Miss Kimball?" Sir Samuel replied in all
that was proper.

Muriel continued the introduction with reservations. He
might decline to claim her as friend after growing to know
Constance. "Sir Samuel Pruitt."

"I am doing excessively well, Sir Samuel. Thank you for
asking." By the glimmer in Constance's eyes and the transformed expression of Sir Samuel's, Muriel began to think
she might be wrong.

Oh, no, this could not be. Surely Sir Samuel was merely
being polite to return Constance's admiration; he could not
truly be taken with her.

No...

That was when Muriel learned that, even after the shock
she'd had earlier that evening, she could still be surprised.

The next morning, Muriel rose early, as she had every
morning since arriving in Town, and was careful not to make
any noise to alert the staff. Lydia had strict instructions not to
enter the bedchamber until summoned. Muriel made it a
point not to use the bellpull until just before noontime. Everyone thought Muriel spent the early-morning hours sleeping
behind the doors of her peaceful bedchamber. Little did they
know she spent those hours studying and completing the assignments given to her by Signore Biondi.